


Treadmills and Squeezes

by AceD



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-28
Updated: 2015-09-28
Packaged: 2018-04-23 19:03:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4888405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceD/pseuds/AceD
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mycroft almost choked on a piece of cake and a dark aura materialized upon their heads. He stood up, pushed the chair torwards the table and left the room immediately, unaware of Greg's heavy sigh and facepalm. Sherlock couldn't help the loud laugh that was formed in his throat and John was a bit shocked by his brother-in-law reaction, looking as confused as Amelia.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Treadmills and Squeezes

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for any English mistakes since it isn't my first language :(  
> This fic is really silly and was an idea that came to me after I saw an edit on tumblr. Oh and Amelia is obviously an OC, so she is Mystrade's and mine :p  
> 

After 43 minutes standing, Gregory Lestrade could finally enjoy the amazing feeling of having his back resting against something; in that case, a wooden chair. With a lemonade in hands - and his legs' blood finally circulating once again - he sucked the liquid with a straw inside the glass he was holding and glanced Amelia's face. She looked like a little angel in his eyes, especially when her face was plainly calm - which almost never happened. By what he could see, she was painting a snake-dragon-dinosaur type of thing. It was 8:57 PM and she was still up even after the early party, but of course it was because of the baby.

The very moment Mycroft came back from the bedroom, the doorbell rang and Amelia ran towards the door to open it before he could. A baby stroller came inside the house with a Sherlock on it's tip followed by a smiling John behind him. Inside the stroller was a sleepy pink-faced baby with plenty of sandy-colored hair on it's head. Outside the stroller was a same-color haired girl fuzzing about her little cousin.

"Hiya Greg. Mycroft" John was still wearing a smile upon his face as he waved to the house hosts. "Amy, happy birthday my princess" he gave her a gift box wrapped up in pink paper with a silver bow on the top. She unwrapped it as fast as she touched it and found a new Barbie doll. There were dozens of those on her collection, but she never seemed to be tired of them. John felt her pushing the hem of his shirt and bowed so she could grab his head and give him a cheek peck. "Liked it?"

"Yes, very much. Thanks uncle John" she tried to return her attention to the stroller, but as soon as she did Sherlock stopped her to give his present.

He took a box wrapped in blue paper and another bow on top of it - which was obviously John's deed - from inside the stroller's front pocket and gave it to his niece, patting her in the head like a kitten. "Happy birthday, little monkey."

It was a Pulp album. As soon as Mycroft saw it, he rolled his eyes - mostly because of the title; Freaks - but said nothing instead. Greg only smiled, thinking it was sorta funny. Amelia smiled widely at her new present. She loved when Sherlock gave her crazy stuff she'd never seen before. Or in this case, listened. "Thanks auntie Sherlock. I loved it, but you think I can hold the baby now?" He looked up mortified and met his brother's mischievous eyes. The bastard was certainly loving it. 

"Great method of education, I see" he spilled the words, trying to seem pissed, but on the inside he was actually amused. "I'll do my best to raise my kid just the same."

Mycroft smiled softly, taking a few steps forward. "What can I say? Our children are going places, then."

 

They all were around the dinner table singing Amelia the birthday song. She already had a party early with her school friends, and the day before her parents took her to an aquarium since it was her birthday wish. Her favorite things were mermaids and although Greg told her they're not real, she left a little disappointed for she was hopping to meet one there anyway. She blew up the big pink '6' candle and Greg sliced everyone a piece of vanilla cake.

"Amelia, child, I was thinking... I gave you no proper present yet. What do you want, love?" Mycroft voice came up and the others waited for her response.

She had almost everything money could buy, so it could be a bit hard to think about something new. Yet not impossible. Her face brightened up after a moment when she finally thought of something. "I want a sibling just like auntie Sherlock and uncle John's baby" she ran to her father's belly and made round movements with her hands above it. "Oh. Are you expecting it already, dad?"

Mycroft almost choked on a piece of cake and a dark aura materialized upon their heads. He stood up, pushed the chair torwards the table and left the room immediately, unaware of Greg's heavy sigh and facepalm. Sherlock couldn't help the loud laugh that was formed in his throat and John was a bit shocked by his brother-in-law reaction, looking as confused as Amelia.

"What happened to dad? Did I say something wrong?" she asked her other father and he sighed again.

"You have no idea."

 

The next day, Greg woke up to an empty right side of the bed. It was usually normal, Mycroft was always the one to wake first except on Sundays when he stayed a little longer in bed to see his husband I-just-woke-up face. He got up, put on his slippers and went outside. Amelia wasn't on her room, which was a bit odd considering it was the weekend and 7 o'clock AM, so he made his way to the living room and found the ultimate of odd things.

His dinner, coffee, kitchen, other tables and whole furniture were covered with gymnastic stuff. Jump ropes, wrap gloves, new outfits and every other sport gear ever made. He couldn't keep up with the amount of clearly unnecessary things he was seeing.

"Daddy, has dad gone mad?" Amelia cried in fear.

He never had the time to answer because a sweaty Mycroft appeared, gave him and Amelia a kiss on the forehead and walked away as soon as he got there.

"What the hell?" he didn't get an answer, just like his daughter moments ago. "Mycroft, what the bloody hell is all this?" he repeated, this time louder.

Mycroft rolled his eyes. His husband sometimes could be such a pain in the ass. "Could you be less specific?" he blew the hot smoke above his tea mug, finally looking at his husband.

His cynism was truly unbeliavable. Greg grabbed a couple of receipts from the nearest table and read. "What's with all those... treadmills and squeezes, goddammit?"

Mycroft resisted the urge of rolling his eyes once again, then calmly placed the empty mug on the kitchen board and started walking towards the rooms. "Well, apparently I have a body of a pregnant man. I'm just simply doing something about it."

Greg couldn't even think of a reply because Mycroft locked himself inside the bedroom right after what he said. It was finally true, Mycroft Holmes had gone completely mad. He probably never even had any trace of sanity on his mind in first place. Greg could never understand how the most clever man he ever had the pleasure of meeting could be so insecure about something so pointless. After all this time he still wouldn't understand that Gregory Lestrade would love him even if he had the looks of a lab experiment failure. He stared all the new stuff he had on his house and decided to stop fighting it. He probably would lose anyway.

 

Six knocks on the door. Amelia. "Come inside", a sandy-haired girl entered the room with a sad puppy face. "Here to mock me more?"

"Never wanted to, dad. I'm sorry" her head went down with guilt.

"I know, sweetie. I'm the one mocking you", which in fact was true. He was never mad at her. Yes, he got carried away by a simple innocent comment, but he was constantly thinking wicked things about his own body and hearing his daughter saying that so suddenly was just... Too much. He couldn't handle it. "Do you think I look any better now, though?"

"You are a pretty boy, dad! Daddy always says you are the most beautiful person in the world after me so I don't care if you are chubby - but you aren't, 'kay? -, you still would be the most beautiful man in the world for daddy and I know he would still love you so so so much any way you look just like I do too, dad. Me and daddy have so much in common, you know" she smiled a big smile. "We both are mad about lemon oreos so trust in me."

There it was. After so many years, the first time he could ever recall being caught by surprise in his entire life was by an infant. Parenthood really is a box full of surprises, after all. "How old are you again, child?" he patted her head, allowing himself to smile a little bit.

 

Greg was sitting in front of the window, holding a cup of tea. He heard steps behind him.

"Are you doing something tomorrow after work?" Mycroft started.

He placed the cup on the table. "I don't know, why?" he fully turned to his husband.

"I wanted company to return those treadmills and squeezes you've talked about."

Greg's whole body stopped. He wasn't moving, talking or doing anything at all. Yet, he completely stopped. "Okay" he could say at last. "What's wrong with today since we're both home?

"Today is family's sacred pizza day. You should remember it from now on", and then he left the room. As simple as that.

Greg was standing alone, thinking about the git he had taken for a husband. But at the same time couldn't stop himself from smiling. Mycroft Holmes was a truly great git, but he was Gregory Lestrade's truly great git.


End file.
